Sam Never Told
by Tigerlily Sackville-Baggins
Summary: Finished piece telling of Frodo's nervous breakdown after Cirith Ungol. Slightly AU No Slash/sex/profanity


Disclaimer: I in no way own or benefit from any of these beautiful characters. I just write about them night and day!

  
  


*As usual, all inner thoughts are in parentheses*

A/N: This is in no way slash. I simply wanted to show the human(or hobbit) condition after a nervous breakdown. They are known to show the true feelings of its victim and to expose the inner soul of them as well. After this occurs, they are known to either shove those they love away, or grasp onto them desperately. Which will Frodo choose? 

  
  


Setting: Some time after the rescue from Cirith Ungol. Granted I changed the goings on in the chamber, but I needed a certain effect! So before I write an essay, enjoy!

And so...

  
  


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~Sam Never Told~

  
  
  
  


Sam could not comprehend it. His own beloved master had just attempted to kill him. He knew the ring was taking hold, but not so quickly, not so soon. He needed more time. Time to lay the foundation down, to give Frodo hope and love. So that if the ring did take him, he could have something to fall back upon, if he ever came out. Sam shuddered. He couldn't think of it anymore. 

"Frodo? It's alright Mr. Frodo. It's passed. The Black Rider's gone. Come back to me."

The look that Frodo gave was heartwrenching. 

"I...I'm so sorry Sam. I never meant to. I would never hurt you..." Sweat poured from his face, as shakes began to wrack his body.

"I know Mr. Frodo. I know." Sam gently picked up his hand and kissed it. "We have to leave. Come on."

Sam tucked Frodo's cloak around him, and picking up both their packs he set off. Frodo stumbled behind, shocked at Sam's reaction to what he'd just done. (I tried to kill him, no, no I didn't try. It wasn't me. It was the ring...he was right. It's taking over me. Oh Sam, you're always right.) Tears began to well in his eyes. Who was he to associate with such a friend? His disregard for Sam's risk taking, blind faith in him, and unaltered loyalty hit him hard. Guilt surged through his veins and his heart ached. (I'm not worthy of his companionship.) The ring responded all too accordingly, as it slowly drug Frodo to the ground. Sam heard a faint "thump" and turned.

"Frodo?! Mr. Frodo," Sam was already at his side. Lifting him up gently, the young gardener looked into the eyes of his master. 

(He's crying. Oh please don't cry Frodo.) Tears began in his eyes also. He could say so many things just then, and none would have made much sense. It would've all come out like Shire-talk, and since his head and his heart could never quite connect, Sam usually preferred to keep silent. (But he's crying, and that's different.)

"I'm sorry Mr. Frodo. I'm so sorry. I want to help you so, if only I could carry it for a little while, relieve you of the burden." The two hobbits sat, sobbing into each other's shoulders, thinking of nothing better to do at the moment. Sam held his master close, trying to warm his back up without hurting him. (He's shivering! Gracious he's cold.) His shaking continued, and Sam held Frodo's arms tighter, afraid that the chill would shatter his frail body. Abruptly Frodo gripped the back of Sam's neck and brought his ear close to his mouth. He was stuttering violently, his words slurring and blending together into an inaudible babble. Sam could only make out snippets between the sobs.

" Please...don't leave. I..I can't do this without you. Why do you, why do you stay with me? You're so kind...so very kind."

Suddenly Frodo grabbed the scruff of Sam's collar and muttered.

"Oh Sam...I'm so scared."

And with that, Frodo Baggins, son of Drogo, heir to the fortune of Bag End, slumped to his knees. He felt for Sam's hand, clutched it, brought it to his cheek, and did not move. All that could be heard was the gentle weeping of two friends who's circumstances had overcome their wills.

Sam was shocked. He too had fallen his knees, and only continued to cry. He stroked his masters trembling hand, and hoped that he would look up, look up and be the Frodo he knew back in Hobbiton. It seemed so long ago. In his heart he knew that would not be so. (But even though, he's got to understand, I wouldn't fathom leaving him!)

With gentle touch, Sam put his free hand under Frodo's chin. Frodo's lip still quivered, and his soul bled through his eyes. He began to shake his head, as if afraid that Sam would announce that he was abandoning him. Instead, Samwise recited a verse he'd thought of long before.

"Though river deep and mountain tall

I came because you beckoned me

I would not forsake you through it all

If I had to swim the Sundering Seas!

Instilled in me a fire so

To protect thee to the bitter end

To ward off evil friend or foe

'Cause your not just master, you're my friend."

"I know it's a bit of nonsense but..." Sam was cut short.

Frodo practically leapt into his arms.

"Sam....Samwise Gamgee. Oh Sam." Frodo fingered one of Sam's curls, sweat stained, and now tear soaked. It bounced. And then the most beautiful thing happened. Frodo laughed. Though he was faced with destroying the most manipulative instrument in Middle-Earth, Frodo still knew how to laugh. He rested his head on Sam's shoulder, and his shaking slowly began to subside.

(Oh you know Sam, it's such a burden, and it's taking over my mind. But as long as you're here, yes as long as you're here, my heart's safe.) Frodo looked up at Sam, and Sam smiled. He smiled, because he finally understood.

"Sam, I'm terrified. I wish I could just go home ;but it's all quite hopeless now isn't it? Suppose we do reach the mountain, what then? Will I still be myself? Will I be able to complete the task that's set before me?"

Sam took both of Frodo's shoulders and looked him straight in the face.

"Mr. Frodo. We'll do the best we can, for it's all we can do isn't it?" He smiled.

"Yes Sam, it certainly is." Frodo sighed. His breathing had become regular and he now began to wipe the sweat and tears from his face. Frodo looked around, taking in the scenery, if put politely. The barren slopes of Mordor rolled in and out of view, and beyond that open pits, glowing red, seemed to scatter themselves across the plains. Frodo grew quiet as he imagined the reek that must billow from the pits, the hardened ground, littered with obsidian. And as he looked farther upwards he saw it, Orodurin. He cast his head downwards, his heart quailing. 

"Mr. Frodo. Don't think about it all, yet. We'll come to it eventually, but until then, let's have a bit of food, and some rest, then see how far we can go? That dratted Gollum isn't with us, so we don't have to wait for the "pale face" to come before we can set off." Sam laughed at his odd Gollum impersonation, although in his heart still burned a hatred for the creature. 

"Alright Sam, that will do nicely. But for me I think rest will come before a bite." He was exhausted. The emotional turmoil of the last half hour had finally taken it's toll. He folded his cloak around him and did his best to ignore the itchy hide that covered his body. "Orc fashion" was difficult to get used to, but he tried. Sam positioned himself under a bramble-bush, Frodo lying down next to him. Sam rested his hand on Frodo's shoulder, and soon he heard the soft rhythmic breaths of someone deep in sleep. He sat up for a moment and looked neither up at him master, nor down on him. He didn't need to. They were on the same level now. But as he pondered what had gone on that rememberable afternoon he thought. 

( I knew it. I told Mister Merry and Mister Pippin. But they didn't believe. But I know my master. I know him right.) And Sam never told a soul.

  
  


*Miss Tigerlily Baggins*


End file.
